Blood of the Fellowship
by Supernoodle
Summary: Legolas is hurt... Aragorn wants to fix him. That's pretty much it. This is an old story written a good few years ago. I still kinda like it though. What do you think?


Blood of the Fellowship.

The forest was too quiet, Legolas had thought to himself just before the ambush. The birds had ceased to sing and no animals were to be seen. A bad sign.

The Elf had been about to mention his misgivings about the path that the three of them, what was left of the fellowship, were following but he never had the chance. The Orcs had been laying in wait for them, cunningly hidden from even the Elf's keen eyesight. Unseen until it was too late.

An arrow flew past Gimli's head, a bare inch from the Dwarf's skull. Followed by three more aimed at Aragorn. Legolas dropped to his knee, arrows drawn and ready to fire on the still unseen enemy, then all hell broke lose as nearly two dozen Orcs came swarming through the darkness.

Aragorn drew his sword and beheaded three of the foul creatures in a single stroke, Gimli's axe dismembered another three shortly after and Legolas fired arrow after arrow into the midst of the monsters, dropping them in quick succession. Then taking out his long silver knives, he cut down more Orcs, their black blood spattering him as he fought. However, distracted by trying to protect his companions, he never saw the Orc creep up behind him. Again unseen until it was too late. The Orc's filthy, rusted axe found its mark, smashing into Legolas' thigh, ripping through pale flesh and shattering the Elf's femur. A gout of blood poured from the wound and spilled to the leaf strewn ground and he dropped his weapons.

Legolas cried out in agony and hot fury, ripping the axe from his body and hurling at back at the creature that had wounded him so terribly with all his considerable force. The axe again found its mark, burying itself into the Orc's skull, dropping the foul thing to the grass like a stone. It twitched and writhed for a moment, black blood gushing out of it like some sort of tainted fountain, then it was still.

'Accursed beasts...' Legolas muttered in Elvish under his breath, looking down at the wound. Not quite registering that it was his own blood that was pouring from him, spilling onto the floor of the forest.

'Legolas!' Aragorn yelled, slicing the last remaining Orc almost in half. The Elf was beginning to waver on his one good foot and he looked up at the Ranger, his pale skin almost white and his dark blue eyes filled with distress.

'Alas my friend, I think they have ended me...' He gasped softly in Elvish, then crumpled heavily to the forest floor.

'No, Legolas. No!' Aragorn yelled, running over to his fallen companion. Gimli followed close behind and they both knelt down next to him. Aragorn scooping him into his arms, brushing the soft pale braids of hair from the Elf's face.

'Is he... Is he still living?' Gimli asked the Ranger quietly. Desperately seeking signs of life on his friend's face.

'Be silent one minute. ' Aragorn answered harshly, and leant over, placing his ear next too the Elf's pale lips. Feeling nothing at first, then the slightest exhalation of breath brush his face. 'Oh thank the stars.'

'Aragorn?' Gimli asked desperately. And the Ranger looked up and smiled at the Dwarf. 'Our friend lives.' He told him, smiling with relief. 'Legolas still lives.' And as if hearing his name, the Elf's eyes fluttered open.

He seemed disorientated for a moment, frightened and Aragorn felt the Elf's lean body tense up in his arms. His eyes peered skywards, his fine brow creased in pain and his breath came in short, sharp gasps. Then he found Aragorn's eyes and seemed to calm a little. 'A lucky blow for the Orc, not so lucky for me...' He said quietly in his native tongue and forced a tiny, hurt smile. But both the Man and the Dwarf could see the tears threatening to spill from the side of his eyes and knew that the pain Legolas was in must be to the very limit of Elvish endurance.

'Lie still my friend. I will help you all I can, but it is a bad wound you have suffered. You are in dire need of your own people.' Aragorn told him.

'But there are no Elves around these parts!' Gimli said. Shaking his head in confusion. 'And we need to leave this place.'

'Yes we do...' Aragorn agreed. 'But first I must try to dress the wound, lest he bleed to death. Go fetch me the leaves of the Marigold plant, bark of Willow tree and some straight branches. Go now Dwarf, hurry.'

Gimli nodded and disappeared into the forest at a trot.

Legolas closed his eyes and sighed heavily. 'You must leave me. I cannot go on Aragorn, and you cannot stay. I fear our fellowship is broken once more...'

Aragorn shook his head, feeling the Elf's body shake in his arms. 'I will not leave you my friend. I will not leave you to perish at the hands of Orcs.' He could only shudder at the thought of what those foul creatures would do to the beautiful Elf if they returned and found him helpless and in agony and alone. The thought sickened his stomach. 'Our fellowship will remain together. I will not lose you as I lost Gandalf... As I lost Boromir. It will not happen again.'

'But the Halflings?' Legolas whispered. Strength leaving his body with every second that went by.

Aragorn smiled to himself in admiration of the Elf's bravery and selflessness. Even though terribly injured, Legolas was still thinking of their mission, thinking of Merry and Pippin. No wonder the Elvish race was such a powerful one, and looking at the noble Elf, his thoughts suddenly turned to Arwen. Beauty and bravery, strength and softness mingled together so flawlessly. 'We will save the Hobbits from their fate... The three of us will. Now lie still Legolas. This is going to hurt.' The Ranger told him. And he gently lowered the Elf to the forest floor.

Removing the cloak from his own back, Aragorn began to tear long strips from the fabric, then he wound several of the strips together to form a small rope and tied it around the top of Legolas' blood drenched thigh, then he pulled it as tight as he could. Legolas bit into his lip, trying not to cry out and failing.

'I am sorry, my friend. I have to stop the bleeding.' The Ranger told the Elf. Worry furrowing his brow. The wound was hideous. The blade of the battle axe had been filthy with old blood and mud and rust and god knows what else, and its serrated edge had ripped wide open the pale flesh of Legolas' thigh. Splinters of bone glinted white amongst the gore of the wound, and Aragorn's stomach rolled with sickness. The Elves were a strong, resilient race despite their deceptively delicate appearance. They were immortal and fierce warriors but so many had been lost in battle. So many had perished in the fight against Sauron.

There was no way he was going to let another Elf be lost to the Orcs.

There was no way he was going to lose another friend. And he prayed silently that Legolas was a strong as he suspected him to be.

A moment later, Gimli returned from the forest.

Dropping the leaves and branches he had gathered before Aragorn, the Dwarf knelt next to Legolas. Smiling with relief to see the Elf was still with them. 'You are stronger than you look, Elf!' He told him.

Legolas turned his dark blue eyes towards the Dwarf and Gimli saw tears slip from them, leaving a glistening trail down the Elf's pale cheeks. 'I do not feel very strong...' He gasped.

Gimli shook his head and lowering his eyes he took Legolas' hand in his own. It looked so fragile and delicate against his own thick, rough, dirt covered hands but he knew that despite it's appearance, the hand he held was ancient, many ceturies older than he was, and it had spilled the blood of countless foe. The Elves were strong, but just how strong could they be?

'Do not fret, Legolas. Aragorn will patch you up in no time. We will be on our way to Mordor before you know it. Now lay still.' The Dwarf said quietly.

Legolas sighed heavily and lay back against the soft grass and fallen leaves while Aragorn began his work.

Lighting a tiny fire beside the Elf, Aragorn sorted through their packs and found a small cup into which he poured some water from his water skin and when the water began to boil he placed several strips of the Willow bark into the cup and removed it from the heat. Then while that was cooling, he boiled up some fresh hot water in a metal cooking pan and placed some of the marigold leaves into the pan. By this time, the small cup had cooled a little and he held it out for Gimli to take.

'Help him drink this, it will ease his pain.' The Ranger told him.

Gimli nodded and took the cup. Legolas had closed his eyes and was whispering something barely audible in Elvish under his breath but when Gimli lay a hand gently on his forehead; the Elf opened his eyes and looked at the Dwarf.

'Take this my friend. It will help with the pain.' Gimli told him and gently lifted Legolas' head onto his lap, holding the cup to his dry lips so he could sip at the brownish liquid that Aragorn had prepared. The Elf managed half the cup, but even with Gimli's gentle encouragements he could drink no more and he closed his eyes again.

'Try to keep him awake, Gimli.' Aragorn told the Dwarf softly as he pulled a small dagger from his tunic and began to slice the finely woven leggings away from the wound. 'If he becomes unconscious, he may never wake again.' Then the Ranger picked up the hot water and held it above Legolas' injured thigh. 'You might need to hold him down while I do this. It's going to hurt.'

Gimli put his short arms around Legolas, holding him tightly in his lap and the Elf took his hand in his, biting down on his bottom lip and drawing blood. His eyes remained wide open and he watched the Ranger as he began to clean the wound with the hot water he had prepared. Gimli felt the slight body in his arms become rigid with pain and the Elf gripped his hand fiercely, but not one sound passed Legolas' lips until Aragorn attempted to splint the shattered bone. Then a terrible scream of agony loosed itself from the Elf's lips.

Gimli held Legolas tightly, struggling to keep him down but the Elf, like the rest of his people, was deceptively strong despite his slight frame and particularly good at freeing himself from bindings. Aragorn, seeing Gimli struggle, leant over the Elf and placed his hands on his powerful Archer's shoulders, trying to keep him still. He had lost enough blood already.

'Legolas! Look at me!' Aragorn yelled and peered into his friend's face. His normally pale skin was now as white as the snow on the mountains above them, but a blush of high colour had appeared on his cheeks and his dark blue eyes flashed wildly in the firelight. A sheen of sweat covered his delicate features and the Ranger could clearly see he was out of his mind with agony. If he broke free from them, all would be lost. He would kill himself in an effort to escape.

'Hold still, Crazy Elf!' Gimli cried, holding Legolas around the neck and Aragorn held his arms down to his chest with all his weight, desperately trying not to injure him any more, but still with enough force to hold him still. Legolas cried and screamed in pain and fury, delirious with agony and the start of infection from the filthy blade that had cut deep into him. 'Filthy vermin...' He yelled in Elvish, spitting curses at them and crying out for the aid of his Elven-kin.

'Please Legolas... Look at me!' Aragorn yelled at his friend desperately. 'There are no Orcs here... You are safe. Be still.' But nothing seemed to register. 'What shall we do?' Gimli yelled in anguish, panting with effort as he fought to hold the Elf still, knowing as Aragorn did, that if Legolas broke free, he would most probably end up dead. A desperate situation indeed. If only they'd had the foresight to tie the Elf up. 'We cannot let him up... We cannot let him get away from us.'

Aragorn looked up at Gimli and frowned. 'May I be forgiven for this...' He said quietly and putting his full weight onto Legolas' chest, he pulled his arms free and placed both hands across the side of the Elf's throat.

'What are you doing?' Gimli gasped in horror. 'You will choke him!'

Aragorn shook his head. 'I am not strangling him, I am cutting off the blood to his brain. It will render him unconscious without harming him more. I don't know anything else to do Gimli!' And he put more pressure on the Elf's throat.

Legolas' eyes went wider still and he stared at the Ranger with wild fear, attempting to shake his head from side to side to free himself, but Aragorn held tight, whispering reassurance in Elvish the whole time, even though what he was doing sickened him to the very core of his being. It was so wrong somehow to treat an Elf as brutally as this, even when it was an attempt at saving his life.

Gradually the Elf's thrashing became less and less as his brain was rapidly starved of blood. But he still stared up at the Ranger with wild eyes that flowed with tears of fury and fear.

'I am sorry...' Aragorn whispered. 'Forgive me Legolas! Forgive me!' But a few moments later, those same blue eyes fluttered closed as Legolas lost has battle with unconsciousness.

'Off him now, give him some air.' Aragorn cried, scrambling backwards and Gimli released his grip but continued to cradle the Elf's head in his lap.

Seeing the Man's regretful expression, Gimli gave him a small reassuring pat on the arm. 'You had to Aragorn. You had to do that! There was no other way'

Aragorn looked away. Sickened. He knew he'd done the only thing he could have, but would the Elf ever be able to forgive him? Legolas was unusual amongst his people in that he had a deep affection for the Human race. He thought Men to be essentially noble and worthy of inheriting Middle Earth from the race of Elves. He neither thought himself better, nor pitied Men and his deep trust in Aragorn's own nobility was unquestionable. But would the Elf ever trust the Man again after what he'd just done to him? Would he ever be able to understand that it was done to save him? Would he ever forgive?

'When he is well, he will know that it was for his own good.' Gimli sighed, seeing the distress on the Ranger's face. 'When he is well...'

But that was the thing, would the Elf recover? Would anything they had done save the life of their friend or had Aragorn just put the Elf out of his misery?

'We must leave here now!' Aragorn sighed wearily, getting to his feet. 'I will bind his leg as best as I can now he is out of pain and then I will carry him. We need to find other Elves if he stands a chance.'

A short while later they were heading towards the river.

It wasn't until a day later that the Elf began to show some signs that he still lived.

Aragorn and Gimli were trekking through forest at the side of the river, with Legolas carried gently across the Rangers shoulder when the Elf stirred. Aragorn stopped dead, not sure if Legolas had shifted his weight slightly or if he had imagined it.

'What is it?' Gimli asked. Looking up at his companion. 'Are you tired? Do you need to stop for a while?'

Aragorn shook his head. He was tired, but not from carrying Legolas. The Elf was not heavy, but his mood was. He couldn't get the vision of Legolas' face as he'd clamped his hands across the Elf's throat. He couldn't forget the panic and betrayal that he'd seen in his eyes. 'I thought I felt Legolas move... Perhaps I was mistaken.'

Gimli smiled, his expression hopeful. 'Let us stop anyway. We need to eat... You need to rest. Let us make camp.'

Aragorn sighed. Knowing the Dwarf was right, but unwilling to stop their journey. They needed to find Elves; they needed to press on. And the Halflings... They would be reaching Mount Doom soon. 'I don't know Gimli... I think we should carry on for a while longer.' The Ranger said.

'Gimli is right...' A quiet voice replied, suddenly. It was Legolas. 'Put me down, Aragorn... Please...'

Gimli ran around the back of Aragorn and looked up at the Elf, Legolas brushed his pale braids away from his face and looked back him, smiling weakly. 'You live... You live!' Gimli cried with delight, taking one of the Elf's hands in his own and holding it tightly.

'I think I am still here...' Legolas replied, gritting his teeth as Aragorn carefully knelt down and helped the Elf from his shoulders. Laying him down in the soft grass by the bank of the river. Legolas looked pale and drawn, the skin on his face white as snow still, his lips cracked and slightly bloodied. There were leaves in the tangle of his corn silk hair and dirt on his cheeks but his eyes were clear and bright and Aragorn sat down beside him, relieved beyond measure.

'I thought we'd lost you my friend.' He said to the Elf, taking his hand briefly. Legolas let him, but the Ranger could see that the Elf would rather he hadn't touched him.

Legolas shook his head. 'We Elves are stronger than we look... You should know that Aragorn.'

'Stronger and braver than I ever imagined!' Gimli butted in, breaking the tension between his two companions. 'Never will I underestimate an Elf again, my friend. But enough of compliments... How do you feel? Is the pain from your wound bearable? Are you hungry for anything? Thirsty? Let me get you some water.'

Legolas sighed, casting his eyes down at his leg and studying the damage for a moment before answering. 'The pain is... It is bad. But I will bear it.' He told the Dwarf. 'I have no choice!'

Aragorn took a piece of the White Willow bark from his pocket and handed it to the Elf. 'Chew this, Legolas. It will help ease your pain.'

Legolas took it from him and stared at it for a moment, but instead of putting the bark in his mouth, he held it in his hand. He then looked up at Gimli again. 'I am horribly thirsty. Could I have some water?'

'Of course.' The Dwarf replied and he pulled out his water skin and held it to the Elf's cracked lips. Legolas drank deeply, then Gimli wetted the edge of his cloak and cleaned some of the grime and spatters of blood from the Elf's pale face. It wrong somehow, seeing such a beautiful, pristine creature as Legolas dirtied. 'There you go, my friend. Looking better already.'

Legolas smiled wanly and closed his eyes. 'I think I would sleep now.' He whispered, and lay back in the soft grass. The piece of bark still remaining in his hand. Gimli frowned, putting a hand to the Elf's brow. He felt very hot to the touch. Very hot. 'I will be alright.' Legolas said, as if seeing the Dwarf's expression of concern. 'I just need to sleep.'

Aragorn nodded to the Dwarf. 'Let him be now, Gimli. We will make camp while he rests. Let us eat and rest now.'

Gimli looked from Legolas to Aragorn. The Ranger didn't meet his gaze. Instead he got to his feet. 'I will find some fresh herbs for Legolas and maybe a rabbit for our dinner. You build us a fire, all right?'

'Alright!' Gimli replied and watched as the Ranger disappeared into the trees. When he was out of sight the Dwarf began to build a fire and set up camp for the night. His watchful eyes on the sleeping Elf the whole time as he busied himself.

Gimli never thought he would become so fond of an Elf as he had of Legolas. Never in a million years. The Mirkwood Elves had held his own father prisoner, but since their travels had begun, Legolas had earned his unfaltering admiration and respect with his dignity, his bravery and his loyalty to their fellowship. He was a formidable warrior, noble and wise and even horribly wounded by a most loathed enemy, the Elf's concerns had been with the Halflings and not himself. If only, Gimli thought to himself, there was more he could do for his newly found friend.

He realised that the Elves were far more resilient than the other races of Middle Earth. They could survive hideous wounding, healed much quicker than Men or Dwarves and were not as susceptible to illness and disease as they were. But although immortal, Elves could be killed the same as everyone else and Aragorn had told him tales of Elves perishing of a broken heart. Such an alluring mix of strength and fragility.

When the camp was made and the fire burning brightly, Gimli went over to the sleeping Elf and sat next to him, waiting for Aragorn's return.

Legolas seemed to be resting easy. His breathing deep and slow, not labouring like it had been whilst he was carried on Aragorn's shoulder when they had been forced to stop several times to make sure the Elf was not suffocating, or dying even. His fair brow was set in a frown as he slept, the pain was obviously still very great and although he looked slightly feverish, Gimli knew that Elves did not suffer illness. His leg however was still a bloodied mess.

Aragorn had cleaned and bound the wound properly when Legolas had lost consciousness, packing the ruined skin and muscle with healing leaves from the marigold and thyme plants and bandaging it with strips of cloth from his own cloak. He had then set and splinted the broken bone with the branches that Gimli had fetched from the forest. Everything that could be done by the Ranger had been done, but they both knew that the Elf really needed his own people... The Elves had magics and medicines unknown to outsiders and they knew that Legolas, as badly injured as he was, could really only be fully healed by his own people. Only Elves were not easy to find. Especially since the shadow had passed onto the land.

The Dwarf prayed that the Orcs would remain elusive too. If they were attacked again, there would be no way for himself and Aragorn to protect the Elf. Legolas would certainly perish at the hands of his most hated enemy. And losing another friend would be more than he could bear.

Losing Gandalf had seemed like a dream, a terrible dream that he hadn't quite woken from and he knew that his companions felt the same. It was a loss too terrible to comprehend... A loss too great to have truly happened. Gandalf the Grey, fallen into the darkness in the tomb that had once been Moria. He had been right to fear the Ballrog so.

And then they had lost Boromir, valliant Prince of Men. Slaughtered by the foul creatures that had tracked the fellowship down for days.

Aragorn had known that Boromir had struggled with the power of the Ring, they had all known it. And the struggle to do what was right had nearly torn the man in two. But Boromir had died well... A warrior's death that had done him and his people proud. What Gimli wouldn't do to have him back though... Both Boromir and Gandalf. He could not bear to grieve for yet another friend. And he wiped away a tear that trickled from the corner of his eye.

It was nearly an hour later when Aragorn returned from the forest.

The Ranger came out of the forest holding two dead rabbits in his hand and a pouch of leaves and berries. Dinner and more herbs for Legolas. He handed the animals to Gimli for him to skin and prepare, then sat down by the fire and began to grind the herbs, firstly Valarian and then Comfrey and more Marigold, between two large rocks.

'He hasn't woken since you left, Aragorn.' The Dwarf told the Man.

Aragorn shook his head. 'He is awake now, my friend.' And he turned to look at the Elf who opened his eyes and peered back. 'How do you feel Legolas?'

Legolas gave the man a small smile, but it did not reach his eyes. 'I am still alive.' He replied softly. 'Other than that, I cannot say. Everything hurts.' And he covered his face with his arms as fresh tears welled up in his eyes. He had shed tears enough and wanted to cry no more, but couldn't help it. The pain was so overwhealming and he didn't know how much longer he could endure it without going out of his mind. 'Help me Aragorn... I cannot take this. I cannot...'

'Oh, my friend...' Aragorn moaned, scrambling over to the Elf and lifting him into his arms. Legolas buried his face into the folds of Aragorn's cloak and clasped his arms tightly, sobs wracking through his body, and the Ranger rocked him gently. It made his heart hurt to hear so much pain in the Elf's voice, but at the same time he was relieved. Legolas still had such trust in him. 'Ssshhh...' Aragorn whispered. 'I am here, I will help you. Gimli and I will do everything we can to help you Legolas. But you must calm yourself now, you must be still... Clear your mind, Legolas. Think on the healing ways of your people...'

'I cannot...' Legolas gasped desperatly. 'I cannot do anything... I cannot think... '

Gimli looked desperately from the Elf to the Ranger. There was nothing in the world he wanted more than to be able to help Legolas but what could he do, what could anyone do? They were out in the middle of a huge forest, many weeks away from anywhere that help might be found. Their fellowship all but destroyed and hunted by evil on all sides. The situation was hopeless indeed. Then suddenly the Dwarf felt a sharp pain at the back of his neck, and as he turned to see what had caused it, a clear voice spoke from behind: 'Leave the Elf be and step away, or die!'

Aragorn looked up sharply to be met with the sight of three Elven figures standing above them, arrows drawn and ready to strike. Never had he been so happy to see such a sight.

'Let go of the Elf!' The tallest of the figures spoke. 'Or we will kill you before you draw another breath.' The Ranger smiled with relief, and gently setting Legolas to the floor of the forest, he got to his feet, hands in the air. 'This is Gimli, son of Gloin, and I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn... Heir of Isildur and the throne of Gondor. And I assure you that we are both his and your friends.' He told them in Elvish.

The Elves frowned and looked at each other for a moment, surprised at the Man's use of their language, before lowering their weapons. 'And the Elf?'

'That is Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil, King of Mirkwood.' Gimli spoke, turning to look at the Elves.

'The fellowship of the ring?' The second Elf whispered under his breath in Elvish, and Aragorn nodded. 'Yes... We are what is left of the nine sent to take Sauron's ring to Mount Doom. But enough of this, we can talk in a while... Legolas is badly injured and is dire need of your help.' 'Of course...' The third elf replied. Putting away his bow, and he knelt down beside the now barely conscious Legolas. 'What happened to him? Who did this?' He asked, seeing the terrible injury that the Elf had suffered.

'Orcs!' Aragorn replied, frowning. 'The blade was tainted... I have healed him as best I can but he is dying... I could do no more.'

The Elf nodded. 'You have done well, Aragorn... But you are correct. He is dying. We will take him to our home and hope that it is not too late to save him. Now follow us and try to keep up. We cannot linger.' And lifting Legolas carefully but effortlessly into his arms, the Elf, followed by his two companions, ran into the forest. Man and Dwarf struggling behind to keep up.

An hour passed, maybe two before they heard news of their companion. In the mean time Aragorn and Gimli had been left to rest on a leafy flet built into the trees. Food and drink brought to them, a place to wash and clean clothes offered. All very hospitable and had the circumstances been different, both Gimli and Aragorn would have enjoyed their little stop over in the Elvish camp. However, both Man and Dwarf were near frantic for news of their friend, jumping up whenever an Elf came near to talk with them. And just before they thought they could wait no longer for news, a beautiful Elf female came up to them, her russet hair falling in soft waves almost to her delicate bare feet.

'Aragorn? Gimli?' She asked, smiling. Her pale blue eyes shining in the misty light.

'Yes, that is us!' Gimli relplied, climbing to his feet. 'You have news of Legolas?'

The Elf nodded and patted the Dwarf on the top of his head. 'Your friend asks for you.' And she lead them from the flet, down the stairway that had been built around the trunk of the huge old silver barked tree and across the floor of the forest to a small wooden built building. Elves watched them with beautiful shining eyes as they follwed the Elf princess.

'Is Legolas alright?' Gimli asked as they stopped at the building's entrance. 'Is he in pain still? I cannot stand to see him in agony again.'

'Do not fret, Dwarf. You friend will be well again. All he needs now is rest. My father, Lord Ulther has many healing skills. Your friend is lucky that he lived long enough for us to find you.'

'Lucky indeed! I tried my best to keep him alive in the hopes that we would find Elves.' Aragorn agreed and he bowed to the Elven maiden. 'Many thanks to you and your people.'

'Many thanks to you and your bravery, Aragorn and Gimli. You hold all our safety in your hands. It saddens us greatly that we can only repay you with such a small kindness.' The Elf told them and she leant forwards and kissed both of them softly of the forhead. 'Now go... Go and see your friend. He has called for you many times.' And she opened the door and let the pair inside.

It was very quiet inside the small building, and lit by only a fire and a few lamps on the walls. But it was dry and warm and fragrant herbs smoked in small dishes all around. Aragorn and Gimli looked at each other in wonder at the beauty of the decoration inside, the intricate filligree of the wooden carvings above the fireplace and windows and the rich, fine weave fabric that hung all around the huge carved bed in the centre of the room. In the bed was Legolas, lying asleep, propped up by soft cushions filled with the shed feathers of owls. He was very pale still, but he had been cleaned of any dirt and blood that had stained his perfect flesh, and a healing balm applied to his cracked and bitten lips. He was unclothed but covered with a silvery blanket, and his injured leg, which was heavilly bound with a fine gauzy wrapping, was uncovered and supported by more cushions. He looked terribly sick still, but not dying. And best of all, he looked like the pain had left him. The frown had disappeared from his brow and he looked peaceful once more.

'Thank the stars.' Aragorn sighed softly, sitting in one of the chairs left beside the bed. Gimli took the other. 'He looks better, don't you think Aragorn?' Gimli said. Watching the Elf's face intently.

'Yes, he looks much better.' The Ranger replied, smiling broadly. 'And he is awake and listening to us... Aren't you Legolas?'

The Elf's dark blue eyes opened slowly and he smiled at the Ranger. 'How do you do that?' He asked him. His voice was quiet, tired sounding, but the strain of agonized panic had disappeared completely.

Aragorn shrugged. 'You know, I think I have an affinity with you Elves. I cannot think why?'

Legolas shook his head and looked thoughtful for a moment. 'Me neither...' He replied, then grinned widely, holding his hands out to take theirs.

Gimli all but leapt onto the Elf, clutching his hand tightly. 'My crazy Elf... You scared us badly. You know that?'

Legolas nodded. 'I know that, my stubborn Dwarf... And I am sorry. I will keep my eyes open wider for Orcs next time we travel at night. And I will try harder to avoid their axes.'

'You do that!' Gimli replied, and giving the Elf another huge hug, he climbed down and allowed Aragorn to talk to Legolas while he tactfully went to look at the veiw out of the window.

Aragorn sat carefully down on the edge of Legolas' bed, trying not to disturb his injured leg and peered into the fire. The dancing flames reflected on his gray eyes, making them flicker in the dim light. 'How do you feel?' He asked the Elf quietly.

Legolas sighed and looked up at the Ranger. 'I do not feel well, but I will be very soon and I have you to thank for that, Aragorn. You saved my life and I thank you.' And he lifted his cold, pale hand and took hold of Aragorn's. 'If not for your skills, your care, I would have perished.'

Aragorn looked down at the Elf, surprised. 'I know I hurt you Legolas, I know you were fearful of me and I am sorry. I would never treat anyone that way unless...'

'Unless you had no choice...' Legolas interrupted. 'And you had no choice, Aragorn. I was out of my mind with pain in the forest, I would have tried to run away from you and Gimli and it would have killed me. I know this now, and I am grateful that you were able to do what you did, because that is what I would have done for you, my friend.'

Aragorn sighed heavily, relieved that the Elf understood. 'I thought I had lost your trust, Legolas. I thought you feared me...'

'It is not me who should fear you, Aragorn, son of Arathorn. It is Sauron!' Legolas replied, a warrior's glint flashing in his eye. 'We will continue on our way to Mount Doom and we will have the ring destroyed.'

'We will!' Aragorn agreed, smiling. And he patted the Elf on the shoulder and got to his feet. 'Now get some rest, my friend. The sooner you are healed, the sooner we destroy the enemy! We have given enough blood to this trial already. The fellowship will be sucessful!'


End file.
